normalsville – season 01

episode 01 – secrets in the wind...

act 04 – no reason for it.

It was forever ago when Jessie Smyth fell for Taylor Mathews, and it was forever minus a few days ago when Taylor fell for her, and he didn't know what to do about it for the longest time. Do the one hand he knew, he just knew that this girl... she was the one for him. His heart told him so every time he thought of her, which was all too often. However, on the other hand...

"What is this garbage, Mathews?" Mr. Nat asked him pointedly, hastily dropping a stapled pack of papers on the desk Taylor was sitting in.

It was a few minutes after the last period of the day. At the beginning of class Mr. Nat requested Taylor's presence after dismissal, and as all of the students filed out, free for another so many hours, he remained. Moments later, he found himself blinking at his major poetry assignment in a state of bewilderment.

"It's my assignment. Why? Didn't I do it right? I wrote the poems in all of those different styles, just like you told us to. Even the sonnet, which... well, it wasn't exactly a picnic."

"Mathews, this isn't about the format. You at least had the brains to do that much," Mr. Nat growled, "It's the contents. That's the problem."

"You told us to write about things and people we had strong feelings about, I was just—"

"Mathews, stop right there. I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it," Mr. Nat explained, "I get one of you in every class every year, so you can save me the speech about whatever tart or, God forbid, prostitute that you make your simpering and vile adolescent goo goo eyes at, because I already know that..." he changes his sharp tone to one of mocking sarcasm, "...he or she is the love of my life, and I'll never ever feel this way about anyone else ever, ever again.

"Spare me Mathews," he snarled, "You don't have enough life experience to know a thing like that, and don't you even think of arguing with me. Out of all of the students who've given me pages of their inexperienced love droppings, not one of them has had their 'loved one' stay with them, and yes. I do check up on those students. One of those girls got knocked up and abandoned by the love of her life, and now her forever is witnessing and tips and the poor house because she's damaged goods, and if that doesn't do it for you, take the advice of a man who has been married for almost 40 years. No matter how much you believe you'll spend the rest of your life with her, you'll find times that you will hate her more than anyone else in existence, times that you won't even feel anything for her, and some times... some times you'll actually care for her so much it makes you wish you really did hate her.

"Trust me. You don't need that kind of agony at this age. Go out and live and save that little torture for when you've experienced enough to know whether or not you really want to put yourself through something like that," he concluded, "And re-do the assignment with some variety to the crap you try to pass off as poetry."

Taylor continued to stare at the pile of papers, as Mr. Nat began the process of gathering the few stacks of papers he needed to leave.

"Oh, and Mathews," he added, tossing the gathered stack into his open briefcase, "If you tell anyone about this conversation, I'll call you the liar that you are."

"He's right, you know."

A few short hours after the exchange, Taylor found himself at Squeezies, drowning his sorrows Archie style with a big ol' chocolate milk shake, and blatantly disregarding his English teacher's final warning by talking to the kid Squeezy had working behind the counter that day.

"Life's too short to go locking up your little buddy away in one room. You have to let him play a little. Let him experience all the different rooms of the world before settling down with the one with the most toys."

Taylor, hand upon his slightly and depressed face, sighed mournfully.

"You know, there was a time when things were simpler."

"Was this back in the day when you had to walk eight miles to school going uphill both ways?"

"No," Taylor muttered, "I watch a lot of old movies and TV shows, okay?"

"Okay, okay, whatever you say."

"So yeah. Anyway... things were so much easier back then. Love was real, and it was simple. You liked someone, you asked them out, and there wasn't all this... this crap about people looking to get laid over getting love, and when people did fall in love, they stayed that way forever, or until one of them died, which I guess kind of is forever when you think about it, and... I just want things to be like that. Why can't things be like that?"

"Because," she said, sitting on the stool right next to his, "Even though those TV shows and movies you're watching come from way back when... they're still Hollywood, and Hollywood isn't real."

Taylor took a few seconds to blink and to take it all in.

Jessie was sitting beside him. And she had been listening to him. How long had he been listening to him?

"How long have you been listening to me?"

She smiled a little.

"Long enough."

The kid behind the counter turns around, "Is that a convenient distraction? Why yes, I do believe it is..."

As he leaves, Taylor kind of gazes into his milkshake glass, "I didn't mean for you to, um... I don't believe him. My teacher, you know."

"He's right," she said to him

"...um... what?"

"He's right. Your teacher," she told him, "All that about how teens like us shouldn't be in love and everything. He's right. We shouldn't be."

Taylor continued to look into his glass.

"But... I don't care."

Taylor looked at her and his jaw dropped a little, "What? But... I..."

"Look," she said, "I don't know a whole lot about... this kind of stuff, and I don't think you do to, but... there's one thing that everyone can agree upon about this."

She paused for a second, her nerves getting to her a little.

She continued, "No matter how hard you try, the heart wants what it wants, no matter how bad it is for you... and... sometimes, you should just... let things go and make yourself happy. You know?"

He looked at her for a long while and smiled a little.

"Would you like to go out with me?"

Today.

Taylor's ditched the spinney chair that he uses to zoom around his apartment, and he's pacing back and forth on the little space between his bedroom wall and his bed. His phone is sitting in front of him on the bedside table, behind him, in front of him, behind hi—

"I wonder if she's going to call, you know?" he asks the phone, facing it, "I mean, I'd understand if she didn't because... you know... I'm here and she's there, and I'm probably being stupid waiting for this call when the only thing I did was open a window, but you know... I could always hope that she... you know... remembers and... well, and hope that I'm not being a complete retard, which I am, so... yeah.

"This is stupid, isn't it?" he continues, "Really. It's stupid. I shouldn't be talking to a phone, or a wall, or a bed, or any inanimate objects, and I shouldn't be here in this stupid, stupid city and this apartment. God."

He sits on the bed and puts his head in his hands.

"I'm so, so stupid..."

Forever, less a few months ago.

He never thought he could be so incredibly scared, and yet so incredibly happy at the same time, but it was happening. Sort of. Kind of.

It was just after he'd asked her out. She, miraculously in his own mind, said yes. They were going to go out on Friday, four days away. Today, he got to walk her home.

It was windy that day.

He smiled as they walked out the door of Squeezies and began to climb up the stairs that led to ground level, as the shop was located in this odd little basement area underneath Squeezy's house. The wind was whipping her hair and she continually tried to pull it out of her eyes. It reminded him of something.

"You know... when I was smaller, I was afraid of the wind," he told her, not completely sure why she would want to or need to know that piece of somewhat embarrassing information.

"Oh really?" she said with a little smile, again pulling her float hair behind and ear.

"Yeah. Thought it was going to pick me up and blow me away and such," he explained, "Heh. Just the uh... just the sound of the leaves rustling made me scream and... God help whoever was supposed to be watching me if there was a flag around."

"Oh, you poor baby," she mocked.

He smiled, "Shut up, I was eight."

"Okay, so you were eight," she said, "How old were you when you finally got over this little fear. I mean, you don't seem afraid of it much now."

"No, it don't," he told her, "But the truth is, right now... seeing your hair blowing around like that... I don't know. I feel a little uneasy. But... I'm not sure if it's because of the wind."

"Uch," she winced, "I'm sorry, but that was just bad."

"What do you mean, that was bad?" he asked.

"I mean, if you get anymore mushy and cute, I'm going to have no choice but to hurl on your shoes."

"I thought girls liked that mushy stuff."

"No. Girls like thoughtfulness and sometimes, a bit of romance," she explained, "You're laying it on a little too thick."

"Sorry. I guess I'm just... I'm just not really used to this sort of thing," he said, "Not really."

"Don't worry," she told him, "I'll forgive you."

The wind whipped her hair around some more, as she smiled to herself.

He smiled a little too.

And from that moment on... there always seemed to be something about the wind... a little something between them. Neither ever mentioned it. Obviously, it was supposed to be too mushy... too cute... but really...

A left. A right. Another right, and down some stairs.

The wind billows and swirls within the little space between the door of The Joint and the little cement in cut that digs below the sidewalk level, unable to reach the inside.

Stupid doors, it would probably think if it weren't an inanimate force of nature.

Well, luckily for it, a certain Mr. Jason Mathews is late for work.

"Fucking wind," he curses, swatting at the swirling air, as he descends the steps to The Joint, "Mess up my fucking hair."

He grabs the door and opens it. The wind swirls in through the doorway, rustling various papers and tossing random hairs. The breeze wafts gently by Jessie's ears, swirling her own hair up and around her face.

"Sorry I'm late, Jess," Jason immediately goes into his excuse of the day, "I was getting Andrew to drive me here, and the fucker went and hit this squirrel, and..."

He notices Jessie's expression. It isn't angry. Something's wrong.

"Are you paying attention to this?" Jason asks, "Because I put a lot of time and effort into this bull shit, so if you're not going to listen, I'm just going to go ahead and save it for later."

Jess points a finger at Jason and mutters, "Don't swear."

Jason blinks, face twisted into a look designed to tell Jessie that he thought she was crazier than a bread basket, "And a happy fuck you to you too."

Jacob bursts out from the kitchen area, quickly pulling off his hair net as he begins to undo his apron, "Thank God you're finally here, Jason, look, there's a burger on the go and some fries in the deep fryer, so if you could just-"

"No," Jessie whispers kind of absently.

Jacob blinks, "No?"

"No," she repeats, turning around to face Jacob, "I need you to stay for a few moments, I have to go and... and take care of something. Jason, I'll have you work the counter for a while, that okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Jason shrugs, "But are you sure you don't want to stay here where we can make sure you don't find any sharp objects or some shit like that?"

"Don't be such an asshole," Jessie tells him, "I'll be right back, just... hold down the fort until I get back."

"Hmmkay," Jason says.

Jessie runs off to the side of the door of the kitchen, where there are stairs leading to her house up above. Naturally she takes them and Jason gives a confused look to Jacob.

"What the fuck is her problem?" he asks.

"I don't know," Jacob grumbles, re-tying his apron in the most rueful manner he knows of, "She was acting like her normal self before you got here."

"You mean like a bitch?" Jason asks.

"Sure, whatever, Jason," Jacob tells him, putting his hairnet back on, and pushing open the kitchen door with ferocity, "Work your counter."

"Dude, what's crawled up your ass?"

"Maybe you did," Jacob growls, "There's someone at the counter."

Jason rolls his eyes.

"Whole fucking town is going crazy today."

Jessie climbs the stairs and opens the door at the top. She quickly closes the door behind her and leans her back against it. She's being stupid she knows it. It's stupid. It was just a breeze that blew into the shop, and it happens all the time. She shouldn't care about it, because... right, it happens all the time.

"I should phone him," she mutters.

No, no, she shouldn't. It was a long time ago and...

Brrrriing...

"Wow..." she whispers, "Creepy."

Brrrriing...

She picks up the phone.

"Hello?"

The other end remains silent.

"Hello?"

In the city, Taylor can feel the phone in her hand. He hears Jessie's words in his head. He can't believe that he's phoned her. He doesn't even know what to say. Dammit, he's being stupid... what's he doing?

"Hello?" she says again.

He breathes.

"Hi."

end episode one.